


In the Tub

by Heyitsmehyuppers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyitsmehyuppers/pseuds/Heyitsmehyuppers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly's past is coming back to haunt her, and of course, Sherlock is the only one who can help her. (No lemons)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chased

Molly bit her pen as she stared at her paperwork. It was hard to concentrate with Sherlock sitting so close. She could  _smell_ him. He smelled like soap.  **Maybe Old Spice?**

It wasn't fair. He knew how she felt and yet he still did this to her.

"So, what are you working on?"

"These teeth don't make any sense." Sherlock grumbled angrily, not paying any attention to her. As he spoke, one of his curls fell on to the top of the microscope lens where he was examining the teeth.

Molly was the one who had called him in. She had been working on a murder victim, when she had opened his mouth to take a look, his teeth had fallen right out.

"Oh!" Sherlock whispered, almost as of in shock. " _O_ _h!_ It _'_ s all so clear now!" He grabbed his coat and scarf before dashing out of the lab.

She looked down at her paperwork, blinking away tears. At least  _now_  she could concentrate.  **D** **on't be an idiot. Why should you be upset, He's made his position** _ **quite**_ **clear to you. He's not interested. He probably doesn't even care.**

The tears came anyway.

\---

Molly sighed as she finally got to work on leaving. It had been a late night. With Sherlock there all day, she hadn't been able to concentrate, so she had to work over time.

She decided it was alright though. At least, even if he didn't return her feelings, she could be near him.

She stowed her lab coat in her locker and stared at the lipstick on the top shelf.

It had been his Christmas present to her.  _"It will compliment your eyes, make your skin look less pale, and your lips fuller."_

As much as Molly had wanted to be angry at him for that, she just couldn't muster up that fury. Instead she had laughed and said thank you. There had been a lot of thought into that gift. More than he had ever given before.

She couldn't bring herself to wear it though. She wanted to treasure it always.

She turned abrubtly when she heard a crash down the hall.

**You should never, ever go** ** _towards_** **the creepy noises, Molly.** She gritted her teeth in fear.  **It could be** ** _Sherlock_** **though. Maybe he forgot** **something** **or has new information on his case or needs your help or. . .** Something else crashed onto the floor.

She shook her head, hating herself for what she was about to do. "Sherlock? Is that you?"

She froze when all the noises stopped and no answer came. Molly closed her locker and practically ran to the lift.

Molly thought about calling 911, but all she had heard were a few crashes.  **It could be that new intern.** **But if that's the case I should go check on him or fire him or** ** _something_** **!**  Molly looked behind as she pressed the button to the lift with a sense of urgency.

She hadn't felt this scared since the incident when she was fifteen.

Molly felt herself gasp when she heard footsteps coming her way. The lift door opened with a  _bing_.

The footsteps seemed to start running.

Molly pressed the ground floor button multiple times.  **Because** **that's** ** ** **going to make it go quicker, Molly!******

The footsteps rounded the corner just as the doors shut. Molly sagged against the wall. She looked at her hand and saw that she had been about to call Sherlock.  **I should call anyway. What if when I open the door, and the killer is on the other side.** Molly laughed to herself.  **Killer? Just because you heard some noises and some footsteps doesn't mean that there is a killer in the building. You know what? I think I'll give John a ring.**

 "Sherlock, stop shouting! I've got a call!"

"John, how can you not see it!"

Sherlock's voice came through. She smiled when she heard John slam a door.

"Hey, Molly. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, well no. A little scared that's all." Molly rushed out of the lift and building, struggling to get her keys out and hold the phone to her ear.

Hearing John so calm, and hearing Sherlock be, well,  _Sherlock_  made her feel better, and a little silly.

"What's the matter?" John asked, all traces of annoyance were leaving his tone, concern was starting to take its place.

"I heard some noises and footsteps as I was leaving. I was terrified that I'd be-"

Molly tripped at exactly the right second. A knife scratched through her sweater and scrapped her skin. A scream filled the night air.  **Is that me?**

She hit the ground hard.

Whoever was attacking her fell as well from the force of the swipe.

Molly was smart enough to use that to her advantage. She ran, leaving all her possessions behind.

She felt a strange sense of pride for never wearing heels to work.

Her attacker was right behind her. She could hear his, or hers, raspy breath.  **Smoker?**

A car turned the corner. It was just a taxi, but it was enough to save her life. Molly ran into the middle of the street.

Unfortunately it wasn't like the movies. The cab didn't have enough time to stop.

\---

Sherlock glared angrily as John answered his phone as a way of ignoring him.

"John!"

"Sherlock, stop shouting! I've got a call!" John snapped as he started heading towards his room.

"John, how can you not see it?" The teeth didn't belong to the victim,  _so_  that meant this wasn't the first victim.

John gave him an annoyed look, then slammed the door.

Sherlock collapsed on his chair and huffed angrily.  **Why can't** **everybody see what I see?**

Sherlock picked up his violin and began plucking.  **If this wasn't the** **killer's** **first victim. Then there is another body with no teeth or at least somebody else's teeth, which means-**

John rushed out the door grabbing his coat on the way to the hall. "Sherlock! Hurry!"

Sherlock jumped up and grabbed his coat and scarf in one quick motion. "What is it?" He asked as they rushed down the stairs.

John still had his phone out and appeared to be calling Lestrade. "Molly."


	2. Hope

"No Mum. I can't talk right now. People are asleep in my room. No, Mum. I'm fine. You don't need to come. You and Dad should have a nice time in New York. Mum, I'm fine. Okay. Alright. Kay. I love you. Tell Dad I said that I love him too. Okay, fine. Bye." Molly sighed as she settled back into her pillows.

She looked at John who was grinning at her. He nodded his head towards where Sherlock lay asleep in his chair. "He was worried." John whispered.

Molly felt her face heat up. Her eyes rested on the way his curls framed his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping. Maybe- No its not going to work. You know how he is. If anything, he was worried about you because you're his friend. And yet she could feel the hope starting to bubble in her chest again. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Since we talked to the police and the taxi driver last night."

"Did the police catch my attacker?" John shook his head. Molly felt fear creeping up in her stomach. For some reason, even though she knew that it was impossible, she kept feeling like her attacker washim. 

"Greg brought you flowers." John whispered, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"Really, where are they?" Molly's room wasn't that big and she couldn't see any place they might have been hidden.

"Well, Sherlock made him take them away." John voice kind of trailed away, as if he was suddenly unsure if this was a good topic change.

"I don't want to know." Molly said. Her eyes flickered to Sherlocks face, and the hope within her started to creep back up. Maybe what ever he did will squash that hope. "Never me mind. I do want to know."

John looked uncertain, but he continued anyway. "He said that they may have some sort of spores. And that the spores may have diseases or cause infections. Apparently he wrote something about then in his website." Suddenly John gave her a sly look, "Maybe he was jealous."

Molly's cheeks flushed. She shot John an angry look. Did he trick me? Was this whole conversation a trap? "Don't say that please." She begged, a hole forming in her chest. "John, you of all people should know why I can't let hope creep up on me."

John looked at Sherlock."You of all people should know why you should hope."

\---

Sherlock awoke to John and Molly whispering. She's okay.

"Don't say that please. John, you of all people should know why I can't let hope creep up on me." Is John incouraging her? He shouldn't be. He should know better.

"You of all people should know why you should hope." Dammit John. Sherlock could feel the need for a cigarette sneaking up on him.

"Why?" Molly asked, her voice a harsh whisper. "Because for once he showed some interest in me? Not even real interest at that!" Sherlock began to desperately wish he wasn't here listneing to this conversation.

"Not real interest? Not real interest? How much interest does he need to show? He stayed here all night!" John's voice showed barely contained anger.

"You stayed." Both John and Sherlock froze at that. Sherlock cracked his eyes open. 

Molly's face was red and streaks of tears crossed her face. He had never wanted to see her like this.

"I should go." John walked out angrily.

Molly wiped the tears from her face. "Where's the stupid call nurse button."

"Its between the mattress and the rail." Sherlock stirred and finally sat up. Molly eyed him nervously.

"Did you sleep alright? That doesn't look very comfortable." Sherlock felt the need to tell her that it wasn't. To let her know he really did care, but he couldn't give her that false hope she was so afraid of.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't have fallen asleep here." Hurt flicked across her face for just a second, but then she got it under control. "Tell me about what happened."

\---

Molly told Sherlock everything, from her thought process to calling John, though she skipped telling him about how she nearly called him.

"Figures." Molly said with a nervous laugh. "Only I could trip and save myself."

Sherlock listened intently, but at the end, instead of saying anything, he walked out when she finished.

Fear began to creep up on Molly and a memory from her child hood crept up on her.

When Molly had been about eight she and her mother had gone to visit relatives somewhere in the middle of America.

Her mother had warned her that tornados were common that time of year, and that the safest place in the house was the bathroom. Preferably the tub.

Molly looked at the IV in her hand. This is going to hurt. She gritted her teeth and pulled it out slowly. Molly, later, had no clue how she was able to do so without crying out.

She quietly crept out of bed and into the little bathroom. She left the door open and the light off. Molly slid herself into the tub and layed as flat as possible.

Molly heard her door open.

Footsteps shuffled in. Even from a room away she could heat his raspy breath.

"Molly, are you in here?" Molly nearly cried out. She knew that voice. It was her father's.

Not the father her mother was visiting New York with. Her biological father. Her murderer of a father.

He had been arrested when she was three and soon afterward her mother married the man who she called Dad.

When she had been fifteen he had come home. That same night he had disappeared again.

Molly squished herself farther down into the tub. She began to shake in fear.

Even after she heard him shuffle out, she lay in the tub, eyes wide and scared for her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's rant:
> 
> Fun! Background information about Molly's family.
> 
> Mwuahaha I have done it. I have made it so that John ships Sherlolly!
> 
> Should my chapters be longer? Anything I need to improve?
> 
> Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome! And don't forget to vote!


	3. Despair

Sherlock watched stone faced as the nurse gently pushed Molly back into the bed. Molly resisted, but only slightly. "He  _was_  in here!"

"I was at nurse's station the entire time. Nobody could have gotten past me." The nurse's voice was chiding. "I'll have to call the doctor to to get the I.V. back in."

The nurse brushed past Sherlock and John looking very comtemptous. Sherlock watched her leave, feeling slightly angry. He pulled his phone out and dialed Lestrade's number. "I need a protection detail on Molly."

John walked over to Molly's bedside and  began to speak words of comfort.

"Protection? Why?" Lestrade sighed. "I thought it was just a mugging." 

"Apparently not." His eyes flicked back up to John and Molly.

"It's not my division, but I'll see what I can do."

"He  _was_  here!" Molly insisted. The panic was clear in her voice. Sherlock watched her carefully. He wanted to be normal, so he could comfort her. Like John was.

Sherlock felt a wave of jealousy that John was the one to comfort her.  **It should be me.** Sherlock blinked in suprise. Why was he feeling this way.  **Y** **ou know better than that. You of all people know better than that.**  Sherlock shook his head slightly. He wouldmake her hate him, then he would lose an important friend.

"He was five foot nine. He has a limp. And he is a possible smoker." Sherlock concluded. John and Molly looked up in suprise.

"You believe me?" Molly smiled gratefully. A rush of happiness filled his chest. Her smile brushed over his body like a fire. He quickly snuffed it out.

"There is no need to  _believe._  The evidence is all around us." He walked over to the doorway. "You can se a slight trail. There is a foot print beside a long trail where a leg was dragged. You can also tell his height from his footprint. I got the possibility of being a smoker from Molly's original description."

"It's not a possibilty." Molly looked down at her lap. "He doesn't smoke. Thats just the way his voice is."

John looked at Molly in confusion. "How do you know?"

Sherlock walked to the other side of her bed. He grasped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Molly." He leaned in slightly. He stared directly into her eyes, searching for an answer. Her breathing quickened and her cheeks flushed. "What are you not telling me?"

"Um- He- Um, I can't tell you." She studdered nervously. Molly ripped herself away from his grasp and stared at the wall. Molly looked like she was trying to ignore him.

"How can I help you, if you won't answer me?" Sherlock rested hs hand on the edge of her bed. He leaned in further, trying to catch her attention.

Her head whipped around. "Did you ever think that maybe I don't need your help?" Anger emanated from every inch of Molly.

John sighed. "Molly, don't be ridiculous. You're the one who called us."

Molly's face turned beet red and she glowered at the blanket. Sherlock leaned even further in. His lips a hairsbreath away from her ear. He could feel her shaking. "Please."

\---

Molly nearly melted at the sound of his voice in her ear.  **If I turn now, our lips could meet.** Molly imagined catching Sherlock in a suprise kiss. She could only imagine his reaction.

"Please." Sherlock whispered once more.

"Um, okay. Sure." She swooned slightly. "What were you asking me again?"

He stayed exactly where he was.  "Can you please tell me what you know about your attacker?"

Molly looked up and noticed that John was wearing his "I'm incredibly pissed and I will kill you later" face. It was a face he reserved for Sherlock.  **I wonder whats wrong with him.**   ** _  
_**

Molly turned her head slowly and looked up at Sherlock. She felt very confused and fainting seemed like a real possibility. "What were you asking for again." Sherlock smiled. He knew that he had her now.

"I was wondering if, perhaps, you could tell me what you know about your attacker. You obviously know who he is."

"He is my father." Molly looked back down at her hands, ignoring John's surprise. Sherlock didn't react except he stood up straight again, sadly. "Six months into my mother's pregnancy, he went on a viscious murder spree when he was on a buisness trip in Ireland. He went to jail, with a sentence of-" Moly blanked out.  **How long was it?** She shook her head in shame. "He went to jail until he was released two weeks before my ffteen birthday. My mother and I were living in Middlesbrough."

Sherlock's hand brushed by hers as he shifted. She felt her chest burst with pleasure. Then she froze as she remebered the story she was telling. "Um, on my fifteenth birthday I had a slumber party. It was mostly of girls that I didn't care for, and they didn't care for me either. Even so they didn't deserve that. Around seven my mother went to go pick pizza up for us. If she hadn't left I- I don't know what I would've done."

Sherlock's hand rested on her shoulder. She looked at his hand. He gently removed it. He had only placed his hand there to settle her shaking.

"I went upstairs to my mother's master bathroom to borrow some of her make up for a game. I was only gone for a few seconds. " Molly looked up, her eyes staring staight into Sherlock's. "Only a few seconds before the screaming started."

Molly looked back down at her hands. John walked over to her bedside and grabbed her hand. "I was so afraid. I didn't even try to help, or call the police." A sob pushed through her mouth. John gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I only survived by turning off all the light and hiding in my mum's tub.

"It was then I decided I wanted to help fight crimes. I was too cowardly to try to become a cop, so I became a pathologist.

"I'm sorry you went through that, Molly." John whispered giving her hand another squeeze.

"I am too." Molly looked up in surprise at Sherlock. He shot a dark look at John before shifting his attention back to her. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on her forehead. She could only stare at him. "We'll stay here until your discharged." And then, he gave her one of his rare smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Rant:
> 
> Did you like my "not my division" reference. I like fandom references like that, so even if it makes my story cheesy, they will be in there.
> 
> Thank y'all so much for your comments in the last chapter. I don't think that you guys realize just how much they mean to me. I've never had so much feedback on a story before. Good or bad.
> 
> Comments? Questions? Concerns?
> 
> Alonsy, till next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Author's rant:
> 
> To clear up all the confusion (that I would not have noticed if not for my good friend Robin, I just don't think that way) no there will be no lemons or anything of the sort. This is a clean Sherlollyfanfiction.
> 
> Also I do not own the cover art. Though it is what have me an idea for one part of the story. . .


End file.
